


More than Myth: Superbeast

by The_Ashmaker, Whitetiger789



Category: Van Helsing (2004), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Blood and Gore, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gunplay, Hybrids, Izuku slaughters them all, Knifeplay, Nazis, Past Torture, Vampires, Van Helsing Crossover for Weapons, Werewolves, but only briefly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23659900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ashmaker/pseuds/The_Ashmaker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whitetiger789/pseuds/Whitetiger789
Summary: They say "Truth is often times stranger than fiction," and that is proven correct, when quirks appeared.But there were still things that were laughed at, that don't exist, that shouldn't exist...Izuku is one of these things, an experiment from a forgotten age, a war that the world doesn't want to look back on.Multiple references to metal songs, try and find them.
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Toga Himiko
Comments: 13
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> See, I am writing this while working on other fics, because of some things.
> 
> I am in the works of re-visualizing the original concepts of my old fics.

It was a simple mugging. A group of armed men walking into an alley, following what appeared to be a wealthy family. Nothing out of the usual. 

But then...the air seemed to shift...it got darker, heavier...

The footsteps echoed through the alley, the sound of boots on stone. The sound of a blade scraping against the walls. The feeling of something otherworldly walking towards them.

One of the men looked, and his heart sunk. There, before him, was a myth, a legend, a tale more than three centuries old.

"Supirittomonsutā..." he whispered, the fear was too much.

* * *

Izuku always hated that name. 

‘Supirittomonsutā’ was a name from a different lifetime, a different era...

Izuku Midoriya was not of this world. He was born on earth, he lived here, he knew human culture. He was human...once…

Izuku wasn't always the ‘Supirittomonsutā’ or the 'Ubertier'. He was once a soldier, a general, fighting a war for a cause he didn't believe in. 

None of his men did. John became a soldier to support his then-pregnant wife. Adam was there because his dad forced him to enlist. 

His men were good, honest people…

Then the Nazi's came knocking at their doors.

* * *

Izuku was sitting in his living room, the radio playing the static propaganda he heard millions of times.

"Join the war," it ordered. "Fight for your nation," it droned. 

_'Damn, it's annoying…'_

He turned it off, listening to his mother cook. His father was missing. Killed in action during the first war. 

He was a good man, according to his mother. A charismatic, charming, and honest man. 

Izuku only caught glimpses of his father when he was younger, being too young to remember him. The tales his mother told, the pictures she's shown him, surely painted him in a positive light.

According to her, he looked a lot like his daddy: Strong muscles, broad shoulders, sharp features, soft green eyes, and messy emerald hair. 

"You grew up nicely," his mother, Inko, would tell him.

Izuku leaned back, resting his head. 

He and his men had just gotten back from Hacksaw Ridge, as he heard the Americans call it. 

He deserved a rest. 

A knock at the door broke his peace. 

He heard his mother rush to the door, her footsteps echoing in their quiet house. He heard muffled speaking, as he stood to walk around the corner.

"Ma'am, your son and his men have been chosen for an important siege," a male voice spoke.

"B-but he just got back! Surely they can't send him back to fight?" his mother cried. 

"Apologies ma'am, direct orders from Hitler. I can't do much," the voice spoke, just as Izuku rounded the corner to the entry hall.

* * *

He couldn't remember much of that day. He couldn't remember the man who came to their door, what was said, or anything else.

He did remember the broken-hearted look his mother gave him, and her sobbing into his chest.

One of the thugs stabbed him in the chest, breaking Izuku from his thoughts. 

He grabbed the thug's arm and twisted, shattering his humerus. Izuku then pulled, dislocating the arm and dragging the thug closer.

He bit into the criminal's neck and drank quickly.

Izuku Midoriya had not always drunk blood. He didn't always have this strength. Nor did his wounds heal this fast. Izuku used to be human.

More memories came, but much fuzzier than before.

* * *

The word of a planned siege was a hoax.

He and his men were captured and drugged. He was kept under for… God knows how long.

The memories came in flashes. 

He remembered waking up, restrained to a table. He remembered his body being cut open, being injected with various liquids. 

He remembered the agonized screams of men. He remembers the feeling of blood rush down his body, the taste of it in his mouth…

Whatever they had done, it had changed him.

Changed him into a monster.

* * *

After Izuku finished with the thugs, he walked away. 

He could hear the family comforting each other. The father whispered to his wife and daughter. The daughter cried into her mother's chest. 

Izuku jumped, climbing up the wall of another alleyway. He ran across the rooftops, jumping from building to building.

He ran, the world zipping past his vision, the beautiful lights of the city streaking past his vision. 

This world was not his own, but he loved it all the same.

* * *

Izuku came to a stop outside civilization.

In front of him was a cave, the same cave in which he had been experimented upon. Within the stone lay a bunker, stretching miles beneath the surface. His home. 

Grabbing a shovel, he set to work. 

His men needed proper burials.

* * *

He woke up coughing. Water came gushing from his mouth, his lungs starved of air for who knows how long.

How long had he been asleep?

It was cold, wet, and his body ached. 

Opening his eyes, he jolted onto his feet with a grace beyond human. His vision had changed. 

It was in shades of red, blue, and yellow. 

But that wasn't what alarmed him the most.

There were bodies, hundreds of bodies, all around him. He recognized some. Mark, Cody, Steve...his men were all dead. 

There were countless others, some German, others Italian, even a few Americans. 

His stomach growled angrily, causing his gaze to shift downward. 

He was naked and covered in numerous scars. He was definitely more buff than he remembered. 

Then his nose caught a scent. Something that would've made him gag before... whatever had happened suddenly smelled appetizing.

Blood.

His body moved on its own, driven by a force that could only be described as feral. His vision returned to normal, after he left... wherever he was.

His ears picked up a rhythmic sound, a heartbeat, and he charged at it. 

A Nazi soldier, or at least a man in a uniform resembling one. He was definitely speaking German, though. Izuku had become quite fluent in the language. 

He didn't need to think about it, his body just did it on its own. 

He wasn't the one who bit into the man's neck, and drank his blood.

He wasn't the one who slaughtered the men in the base...but he wasn't going to say he didn't enjoy it.

* * *

Izuku finished digging the last grave for tonight, placing the body of an american soldier inside the hole. 

He filled the hole in, saying a short prayer. 

His pocket buzzed, and he pulled out his phone. A technology he didn't have in his time. It allowed him to communicate with anyone in the world, and access this thing called the 'Internet.’ 

He checked the screen, and cursed. It was an alert. 

Someone had entered the perimeter. He thought he hadn't been followed, but apparently he was wrong. 

He pulled on his long coat, and straightened his shirt, trying to look presentable, before grabbing a shotgun. He took steps towards the entrance to the property, when he felt the air shift.

He couldn't react in time as something whizzed through the air, hitting him in the shoulder. 

"Tranquilizer," he muttered, his vision going dark. 


	2. Seek and Destroy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku is captured.  
> Aizawa is annoyed.  
> People die.  
> A grand time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I am not dead. Just technical difficulties preventing me from writing. I have a host of fresh ideas though, so be on the lookout!

The atrium was bright. Very bright. So bright that Aizawa was questioning his decision to come here.

But, then again… ‘Supirittomonsutā’ has been a thorn in his side for the past year.

So many dead villains have been found. Mangled or drained of blood, sometimes both. They correspond to sightings of a large male around the areas where the bodies were found. 

Honestly, the guy was messy, but efficient. 

_ ‘And are people really naming him after a centuries old myth? The only connections between this man and that monster was their brutality and the style of killing.’  _

"Supirittomonsutā, my ass," he muttered, walking through the door.

The detectives were rushing back and forth, talking to witnesses and booking criminals. It was both an amazing sight and an annoying hindrance. 

"Is Tsukauchi in?" he asks the receptionist. 

He honestly wanted to get this over with, so he can get back to sleeping. 

The lady nodded, pointing towards a door labeled 'interrogation.’

Aizawa nodded at the lady, walking through the door. 

Naomasa was standing there, looking through a window. Beyond said window, was a bland room with a table and a few chairs. On one side of the table, there was a large man with dark green hair. He was handcuffed to the table.

Said man was looking directly at them through the one way glass. It was unsettling, to say the least. 

“Any ID?” the hero asked.

“Not that I know of.” The detective checked his clipboard again, just to be sure.

He whistled, sounding impressed. “But he did have several weapons. A few handguns, a shotgun and two submachine guns.” He chewed his lip. “That’s not counting the knives he had.”

The tired man sighed, rubbing his face.

"Has he talked?" Aizawa asked.

Naomasa nodded, but sighed. 

"He did, but I can't tell if he's lying or not." he said "It's strange, but my quirk doesn't seem to work on him, Aizawa."

Aizawa sighed in exasperation.

"The fuck do you mean 'my quirk doesn't work on him'?" he asked, being rhetorical.

Naomasa glared. 

"It doesn't work, but that's besides the point." He said. "He has admitted to being Supirittomonsutā, and all the murders, but that's it."

"And what of the DNA tests?" Aizawa asked.

"That's...a bit difficult to explain, but it also offers the reason why my quirk doesn't work on him." 

"And that is?" 

Naomasa took a deep breath, steadying himself. 

"He isn't human." he said, looking away.

Aizawa stared blankly, before doing something he hadn't in a long time. 

He started laughing.

"That's pretty fucking funny, Tsukauchi!" he laughs. "What, next you're gonna tell me he's a hundred years old?"

Naomasa stayed silent, causing Aizawa to pause.

"You aren't joking, are you?" he asked.

The detective shook his head.

"We have no concrete evidence, but his appearance does match a military general in photographs dating back to the Second World War." he explained. "Plus, he's also admitted to it but again, I can't tell if he's lying or not."

Their conversation was broken by the sound of steel shattering, their eyes widened as they gazed upon the broken quirk suppressant cuffs lying on the ground.

* * *

Izuku had broken the chains holding him, and stood. 

“Sorry about this, gentlemen, but I just heard the radio.” he rubbed his wrist. “There is a gang of villains about 3 kilometers north of here.” he said, ripping the door of its hinges. “And as you can already tell, your powers don’t work on me so I’m gonna go deal with that.” he said, walking away.

He didn’t pay any attention to them, or the several men and women aiming their guns at him. It delighted him, seeing women getting equal chances.

“What do you mean ‘You’ll deal with it’?” Aizawa, he thinks his name was, asked.

Izuku grinned, his fangs extending.

“I want to be a hero, but my methods are bloody, violent, and other ‘unheroic’ adjectives.” he said, walking towards the evidence room. “Let me reclaim my things, and I’ll explain.” he said.

He ignored any further response. He walked into the evidence locker, humming a tune.

His weapons and gear were laid out quite nicely, laying on his coat. He slid on his holsters, fastening them tightly. The pistols were first, the Mausers going under his shoulder, and the 1911s going at the small of his back. Then were the MP40s, which he slid into their waist holsters. He moved his shotgun, an 1867, to the side, grabbing his coat.

He slipped it on, feeling the black, leathery material reaching his knees. 

Izuku slipped his throwing knives into their sheaths, before looking at his main blades. They were long for a pair of knives, being half a meter in length each. The blades had a subtle curve, black spine leading to a silver edge. The hands were carved from wood, originally, but they broke, so he replaced them with bone. 

He found himself lost in memory…

* * *

The smell of fear was thick, and the taste of blood was still fresh in his mouth.

In his hands, was a nazi general: the last man left in the bunker. He was reduced to a humbled, babbling mess of a human.

“Please, God, give me strength in this time, spare me so that I may continue the quest of my people.” he prayed in german.

Izuku stared at him, before growling.

“You think God will save you and your people?” he asked. 

The man sent a trembling glare.

“Against a demon like you, who has killed all my men, I know he will.” the nazi grunted.

Izuku grabbed the man’s blades, ripping them out of him.

“Your people slaughtered millions of God’s followers, claiming that you were purifying the human race.” he said, bringing the blades to the man’s throat. “Hell is too good for you.” 

He brought the blades down, slicing through flesh and bone, severing the man’s head. He put a little too much force behind it, and the handles broke.

Izuku sighed. “At least you can be useful now.”

* * *

Izuku was all geared up, donning his gas mask. 

The gas mask was designed to dampen his senses, making them somewhat bearable. 

He took a deep breath, and, straightening his coat, walked out of the door. He walked past the cops, ignoring their guns and threats of harm.

“Eraserhead, try and keep up.” he said, disappearing in a burst of wind.

* * *

Hontaro grinned as he watched his men bring bag after bag of money from the bank. 

It was all going smoothly. 

Until it wasn’t.

One of his men left to take a piss, but hadn’t returned for a few hours. They radioed him fourteen times, each one only getting static. It wasn’t much of a concern though. He was only a street thug, wanted for charges of theft and public quirk usage. 

Not someone they wanted telling any secrets. 

* * *

Kado was backed into a corner, grabbing around for his knife. His quirk didn’t seem to work on the man before him, so he needed to fight. 

He knew who was chasing him, but his memory was getting hazy. He remembered something like...a white powder being blown into his face. But after that, it was more and more difficult to recall. 

He had dropped his radio a few minutes ago, so he couldn’t radio for backup.

“What do you want?” he asked the man, trying to stall for time.

The man took a step forward, revealing verdant eyes. 

“I already got what I needed, I just have to finish a loose end.” he said, throwing in a sadistic giggle at the end.

“Please no! My daughter needs money for her treatment-” 

Kado didn’t get to finish his sentence, before the barrel of a gun was against his chest.

“Now, be a dear, and hold still.” the man said, unloading the pistol, bringing his aim up.

Lead tore through flesh, cutting a line from heart to mouth. Blood rapidly gushed from the fissure.

Kado grasped at his throat, feeling no blood. He felt ground underneath him, and a wall behind him. He felt groggy, like he just woke up. His brain felt a bit numb, and his vision was blurry. His arms were heavy.

He walked forward, barely hearing the rapid gunshots and shouts.

* * *

Izuku stepped towards the edge of a nearby building, and brought the stolen radio to his mouth.

He started breathing heavily, and smiled as it spooked the criminals. He then jumped from the ledge, right on top of one of them.

Izuku felt her spine give way, before he brought his boot down onto her head, crushing it into the ground.

He heard the shouts of surprise and fear, and set to work.

One of the thugs charged at him, his hands coated in lightning. He swung his fist at Izuku, who sidestepped the strike.

_ ‘Duck, swipe left.’  _

Izuku ducked, swiping a clawed hand to his left. He felt it snag flesh, and he drew his pistol. The thug screamed as Izuku thrust the gun into her face. With a pull of the trigger, she was silenced in a burst of mist.

He felt an electric sting and turned his head, glaring at the electric thug. He yanked his hand from the dead thug and turned towards him. He drew his blades and in a flash of steel, he was in front of him.

The thug wailed, staring at the stumps where his hands once were. He tried to turn his head, but he found it in the strong grasp of the man before him. Izuku twisted himself, and felt the satisfying snap and tear as the man’s head left his body.

He threw the head at another thug, grabbing him. The others opened fire with their guns and quirks, but they only hit their friend. Izuku felt some shots getting through, and extended his fangs.

He bit into his hostage’s neck, drinking deeply. The shots kept coming, and Izuku grinned. He threw the dry corpse into the crowd, jumping after it.

The criminals spread out to dodge the body, but that left them open to his advance. He slammed his fist into the chest of one of them, and felt the crack of their sternum. He brought his elbow down, shattering her femur. He grabbed the leg, and yanked, tearing the flesh from the bone.

Izuku grabbed the exposed bone, and pulled it out. He impaled the thug with her own femur, pinning her corpse to the ground. He jumped, and slammed his foot into another one. He felt his skull crack, and forced his foot deeper, cleaving part of his skull off.

With a flash of steel, another one was cut down the middle, and had his ribs pulled. Izuku took the stolen ribs, and kindly gave them to another’s gut. He licked his hand of blood, before turning to the rest of the criminals.

His face stretched into an unholy grin as his pupils became slits. The glowed a toxic green, as he began laughing.

* * *

Hontaro watched in horror, as men were cut down like blades of grass, all by one man.

Even when he was looking away, Hontaro still felt as though his eyes were piercing his soul. He could feel the cold breath rolling down his neck...he could hear it in his ears. 

He watched as one of his men had their intestines ripped out, before being strung up by them. Another was slammed into the ground, having his back being forced into an odd position. 

No matter how many bullets they pumped into him, how many quirk based strikes they used, how many men they sent, he just kept going. Nineteen men, all taken down by one…

Flesh and bone was as strong as paper under his strikes. Their armor didn’t matter to him…

The man walked towards the last of Hontaro’s men, pulling out an SMG. 

He aimed at a thug’s stomach, and opened fire. Muscle and skin were ripped apart under the hail of lead. Hontaro could see the edges of a smirk on the man’s face, as he ripped the thug’s spine out through the hole he cut.

Organs and blood flew from the rest, yet he could only watch as the man stepped towards him...

He could only watch as the man raised a clawed palm for a strike...

He could only scream in agony, as he could no longer watch without his eyes…

* * *

Kado stumbled, his vision clearing. 

In front of him was his duffle bag. He crouched, unzipping it. Inside was easily thirty two million Yen. He just needed to get away from here, and he could pay for his sister’s treatment…

Kado heard footsteps, and looked up from his money.

He could see the man, how he was covered in blood…

“Supirittomonsutā…” he uttered.

The man paused, before looking at his watch.

“The drugs should be out of your system now…” the monster said.

He tossed three other bags towards him, which hit the ground with a thud.

“That’s the rest of the money, take it and leave through the sewers.” he explained. “When you reach the main, take a left and keep going. You should lose the police there, that area isn’t patrolled by heroes and cops at this hour.”

Kado nodded, running out of the alley.

* * *

Izuku sat on the ledge of a building, staring at the moon.

He had just finished ‘cleaning’ the scene. The bodies were hung by their feet and drained, and his coat was free of blood.

He sighed, his ear flicking at the sound of rushing wind.

Izuku heard the thud, and turned his gaze towards the underground hero.

“Ah, Eraserhead.” he said, standing to bow.

Old habits die hard.

The hero smirked underneath his scarf.

“At ease, soldier.” he joked.

Izuku chuckled.

“What’s this? The stone faced Eraserhead cracking a joke?” he jokingly asked.

Aizawa sat down next to him, leaning back.

“Well, you tend to learn a lot about someone when you watch them fight. You seem to be a nice person outside of, well, your slaughtering.” he said. “Detective skills are useful as a hero.”

Izuku nodded, gazing at the stars.

“Though, I have to ask. Why exactly did you give him the money and aid his escape?” he asked. “And what was that powder you blew into his face?”

Izuku sighed. “I was like him once. Desperate for money to support what little family I had left, and willing to do anything to get it.” he explained. “This was back in the early nineteen hundreds, so women were still thought of as inferior to men, but my mom didn’t give a single fuck, as the kids say these days.” he rambled. “Anyway, there are many types of criminals, Aizawa, but there are two main types, those that are in it for themselves, and those that do it for others. I only hunt one type.”

Aizawa nodded gravely. “Makes sense. Still doesn’t answer my second question.” he said.

Izuku grinned, pulling out a leather pouch.

“The nazi’s were experimenting with truth serum, and just happened to leave a large amount behind in that bunker, as well as copies of their experiments.” he said. “Truth serum doesn’t actually make you tell the truth, it just makes you prone to suggestion.”

“And?”

“Well, fear is a pretty good motivator, and to them I’m the most terrifying thing in existence. They fear their death, and begin to imagine it. This powder makes their mind see it. They feel every bit of it, without it actually happening.” he said.

“Huh, neat.”

Izuku nodded, sniffing the air.

“Say, up for a drink? There’s a bar a few blocks north, and you can get your answers.” Izuku offered.

Aizawa nodded. “Could use a drink, let’s get Naomasa there as well.”

“Sure.”

Izuku offered his hand to Aizawa, who took it.

Aizawa himself was formulating an idea, one he knew a certain rat would very much enjoy. He stared at the form of Izuku, and grinned.

_ ‘So...my ancestors were wrong, not all vampires and werewolves are evil…’ _

Aizawa reached into his shirt, pulling out a necklace. It was made of silver, with an ornate symbol on it. The crest of the house of Hellsing.

**Author's Note:**

> I know the soldiers don't have Japanese names, but I couldn't think of any.


End file.
